


Getting Sauced

by puss_nd_boots



Category: SCREW (Band), the GazettE
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3163481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai thinks he’s come up with a fashion accessory that’s the perfect member produce good for their 13th anniversary show. But then, a mixup happens, and suddenly, things are looking very saucy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Sauced

**Author's Note:**

> The whole Kai pasta sauce thing just HAD to be a fic. Food as produce goods isn’t unprecedented – not after Alice Nine’s curry – but I can’t imagine it being A Thing for GazettE before

Kai didn’t hear Uruha come in as he stood at the stove, happily humming to himself as he stirred. He was in his own little world, as he so often was when he was cooking.

Uruha paused in the doorway, a rectangular box in his hands. He waited for Kai to look up . . . and waited . . . and waited.

He considered saying something, but decided against it. He actually liked watching Kai when he was in the food zone like this. It was, well, charming. No, more like adorable. Kai was like a kid in a candy store, the way he stirred and stirred at his mad scientist concoction, tasted it, added things, then stirred again.

It was by chance that Kai happened to look over and see him – and he gave a little yelp and a jump. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you were there.” He gave Uruha a huge smile and pointed his spoon at the pot. “I think I’ve finally perfected my Genovese sauce – and just in time for us to have dinner guests!”

“And I got the prototype for my member produce goods back,” Uruha said, holding the box up. “See? They’re gorgeous.”

Kai wiped his hands on a towel before taking the box. He lifted the lid and peered inside, finding a beautiful pair of hand-tooled leather sandals. “Oh, wow,” he said. “These are great!”

“Aren’t they?” Uruha said. “The shoemaker outdid himself. And I got these just in time, too – don’t we have to turn these in tomorrow?”

“They want them at the office tomorrow, yes,” Kai said. “And I’ve already got mine.” He’d had a designer make a lovely silver chain-link belt, the prototype for which was already in a box, which was in a bag, which was by their door.

When Ruki had suggested that each of them come up with member produce goods for their 13th anniversary live, they’d all been stumped at first – until Ruki told them to ask themselves, “What would you want to buy if you were at a live?”

Kai was very happy with what he’d come up with. It was unique – not every band sold belts.

“So what time are Aoi and Kazuki expected here?” Uruha said, coming up behind him and hugging him.

“A little over an hour,” Kai said. “Just enough time to finish this, cook the meatballs, boil the pasta and get changed.”

“Nothing else?” Uruha said, leaning his head against Kai’s.

“Later, my love,” Kai sad,, leaning back into the touch. “After they go home.”

“It’s woth waiting for,” Uruha said. “Okay, I’ll get dressed. I guess it’s too cold to wear my prototype sandals, huh?”

“Just a bit,” Kai said. “And you don’t want to mess them up, they’re going into production tomorrow.”

He was very happy and content at the moment. He really couldn’t wait to hear the reactions to his belt. He’d made sure that he’d created something useful, memorable and beautiful.

It was shaping up to be a great year already.

* * *

“Wow, this sauce is fantastic!” Kazuki said for something like the fifth time. He and Aoi were sitting across from the other couple in a room lit by candlelight, big bowls of the pasta in front of each person.

“I’m so glad you like it,” Kai said, beaming ear to ear. “I really worked hard on it.”

“Can I have the recipe?” Kazuki said – and then noticed everyone else at the table was giving him stunned, shocked looks. “What?”

“Kazuki,” Uruha said, “you’re cooking? I mean, you’re REALLY cooking? As in, making food?”

“Well, yes,” Kazuki said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“No offense,” Aoi said, “but people used to take bets on whether you would burn water.”

“Did you say something to them?” said Kazuki.

“I was one of the people making the bets.”

Kazuki sighed. “Aoi . . .”

“What made you decide to try?” Kai said.

“Well, you see, ever since Byou and Jin moved in together, they’ve been getting domestic,” Kazuki said. “They both learned how to cook and they cook for each other and the rest of us all the time. And, well, I guess I got the idea from that.”

“Translated, you didn’t want to be shown up,:” Aoi said.

“Hey!” Kazuki said. “I never said that!”

“You were thinking it,” Aoi said .

“Well, anyway – can I have the recipe?” Kazuki said.

“Sure can!” Kai said. “And we have a lot of it left over, so I’ll give you a jar to take home.”

“Terrific!” Kazuki said. “I’ll invite you guys over once I learn to make it.”

The others looked at each other, amused. They figured that the odds of Kazuki becoming a master chef were about the same as pigs sprouting wings. But at least he seemed to be happy about it – for now.

* * *

As it turned out, Aoi and Kazuki ended up staying later than either couple had anticipated.

It was one of those evenings where old friends get a chance to sit down with glasses of wine and just talk, reminisce, share a few laughs. Throughout it all, Kai wrote out his recipe, packed a jar of his sauce and put them in a bag, which he put out by the door – along with the bag containing his belt prototype.

They had just gotten done discussing the 2009 Peace and Smile Carnival – the event where Aoi and Kazuki had first met – when Kauzki glanced down at his watch.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “It’s later than I thought – and I have to be at the office first thing in the morning.”

“Meeting?” Kai said.

“Me and the staff,” Kazuki said. “You know how it is when you’re Leader-san.”

“Oh, yes, I know,” Kai said. “Hey, do us a favor – if you’re going into the office tomorrow, could you please take our prototypes in? You can just give them to the promotions staff, they’ll know what they are. Just say that one is from Uruha and the other from Kai.” He picked up Uruha’s sandal box from the floor and marked it with his lover’s name kanji, so they’d know which was which.

“Oh, sure,” Kazuki said. “Glad to do it.” He stood up, yawning and stretching. “Okay, we really have to go.”

“Thanks for everything,” Aoi said. “Including the recipe.” He draped an arm across Kazuki’s shoulders. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Kazuki grabbed the box and the two bags, and called “Night!” over his shoulder as they left the apartment.

Uruha waved until they left, then started collecting glasses. “Wow, it really is later than I thought,” he said.

“That’s why I asked Kazuki to bring our prototypes in,” Kai said. “That way, we can sleep in a little.” He followed Uruha into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his waist as the guitarist loaded the dishwasher. “I do still owe you some alone time, don’t I?”

“Oh, yes, you do,” Uruha said. He turned around, pulling Kai in for a kiss. “Let’s clean up fast, then.”

Five minutes later, they were naked on their bed, the room illuminated by the pillar candles they kept on their nighttable. Kai’s iPod was plugged into the speakers and playing soft music. It was the perfect romantic setting.

“Do you know how much I thought about this all evening?” Kai murmured between kisses, brushing his fingers through his lover’s hair.

“About as much as I thought about it?” Uruha said.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kai said. “All through dinner, did you think about doing . . . this?” And he lowered his head to Uruha’s chest, quickly taking a nipple in his lips and starting to suck, firmly.

Uruha gasped, pulling Kai’s head closer. “Oh, yes,” he murmured.

“Yes, you thought about it?” Kai said, teasingly – before licking at the bud. “Or yes, you like what I’m doing?”

“Yes to both,” Uruha said, pulling Kai’s head back down. “Do it again, please . . .”

Kai lowered his head and began to suck on the other nipple, drawing a loud groan from Uruha. He reached down with one hand and began sliding the fingers along one of those incredible thighs, tracing the muscles, feeling it quiver slightly beneath his touch.

It was still hard to believe, sometimes, that those icons of fangirl worship were his, all his, to touch and worship.

And worship them he did, squeezing them with both hands, gently massaging up and down, while continuing to suck Uruha’s nipple. He could lose himself in this, bury his whole being in his lover. He was absorbed in his textures, his scent, the way Uruha was wriggling beneath him . . . .

When he shifted position so he could run his tongue along Uruha’s erection, the long moan the other man let out was the sweetest music imaginable, and Kai wanted to hear more of it – so he took the tip of the hardness in his lips, sucking gently.

“Ah!” Uruha cried. “Kai, I want to . . .”

Kai raised his head. “Want to what? Come on, tell me. Anything you want, it’s yours. Whatever you think about, we’ll do it.”

“I want to give back what you’re giving me,” Uruha said. “You know – return the favor.”

“Oh?” Kai licked his erection again. “You mean . . .” He sucked the tip again for a moment. “You mean do just what I’m doing to you now?”

“Yes,” Uruha said. “Please . . .”

Kai turned around so he was straddling Uruha’s head, his erection within easy reach of his lover – well, as easy as being the bottom person in a 69 could be. Kai had been in that position himself, it wasn’t always the easiest to be in.

But it was, of course, always a lot of fun.

“All right,” he said. “Is this what you want?”

Uruha answered by raising his head, touching his tongue to Kai’s erection. Kai moaned as Uruha licked him bottom to top in a slow, deliberate, sensuous manner.

It was almost as if the other man was deliberately trying to drive him mad.

He replied to that, of course, by licking along Uruha’s hardness even more slowly and deliberately than before, pausing to run his tongue around and around the tip. And Uruha responded in kind, doing little tongue swirls that made Kai shudder head to toe.

As he began to suck with enthusiasm, he thought this was really the best part of being with a lover – the give and take, the playing off each other.

He could reach down and caress those thighs again, squeezing the flesh gently, and he’d feel Uruha’s tongue moving down to his balls, gently tracing the shape, stroking and teasing – and Kai shuddered deeply in pleasure, opening his mouth and starting a firm sucking again.

He tilted his hips forward, trying to make things easier for Uruha, wanting to feel more pleasure even as he gave more.

His whole body was filled with heat, his senses overwhelmed with Uruha, and his mouth . . . oh, yes, his mouth was very busy, sucking slowly as he pulled his head back, tonguing the tip of his lover’s erection, then sliding back down, equally slowly, filling his mouth entirely . . .

And then a shudder of deep pleasure passed through him as Uruha rubbed his tongue slowly back and forth over the tip of Kai’s hardness, right over the opening. He thought for a second that he was going to come, just plain explode everywhere . . .

He managed to hold on, because he wanted to keep going. He wasn’t ready to give up this moment of sweet intimacy yet.

The two men moaned in their throats as they pleasured one another. Kai let out a particularly deep sound when Uruha brushed his cheek along the length of Kai’s erection, the contrast between the earlier wetness and this dry friction inflaming his senses, pushing him to the brink again.

He sucked Uruha harder, squeezing those thighs again, thinking come on, love, come for me, I want to hear it, feel it . . .

As he squeezed again he was rewarded with a cry from his lover, and his essence flooding his mouth , which Kai swallowed immediately just deepening the intimacy of the act.

A rapid sweep of Uruha’s tongue along the side of his shaft followed by a quick swirl around the top, and Kai cried out in return, the heat within him bursting like a shower of sparks. He felt the come shoot from him, knowing that it most likely was pouring all over his lover’s face, which resulted in a few extra delicious shudders.

He turned around so they could kiss each other, Kai brushing some of his own seed of Uruha’s face, then both of them laughing and kissing again.

“I love you so much,” Kai said. “This really was the best ending possible for the evening.”

“I love you too,” Uruha said. “So very, very much . .. “

“This really was the perfect end to the evening, wasn’t it?” Kai said, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tighter. “I feel . . .”

“Exhausted?” Uruha said.

“Content,” said Kai. “And happy.” Pause. “And, okay, a bit exhausted. You do wear me out, you know.”

“So exhausted that there won’t be a round two tonight?” Uruha said, snuggling against Kai.

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Kai yawned. “The night’s still young.”

But happy was exactly what he was right now – and the “perfect evening” remark was no exaggeration. He couldn’t imagine things going any better.

He yawned and snuggled against Uruha – for now, he needed a little shut-eye. And if things were good now, he thought, imagine how wonderful things would be once his belt was in the hands of fans everywhere .. .

* * *

Kazuki woke up, yawning. He fumbled for the alarm, mumbling, and turned it off before it could wake Aoi up. His lover, at least, had the luxury of sleeping in a couple more hours today.

He stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Maybe that would wake him up. Served him right for agreeing to a round two last night . . . and then, after a couple of hours of sleep, a round three. But you just didn’t say no to a horny, raring-to-go Aoi, and that went triple if you were Kazuki.

The guitarist was still stumbling by the time he got to the kitchen. He didn’t have time for a full breakfast – just a few swallows from a bottle of green tea and a half a piece of bread. He’d grab a can of coffee from the vending machine at the office. And he was going to take a cab this morning, because no way in hell did he feel like driving.

He was halfway to the elevator when he realized he had forgotten something. Oh, shit – he was supposed to take Kai and Uruha’s produce goods to the office, wasn’t he? Uruha’s was in a box, Kai’s was in a bag . . .

Kazuki rushed back to the apartment, opened the door and looked around. The stuff he’d been carrying when he walked in was on the floor next to the door – Aoi had made him put them down pretty damn fast before he pounced him. Kazuki grabbed at the box and bag and ran back to the elevator.

Meanwhile, the bag that just happened to contain Kai’s prototype belt was still sitting on their apartment floor.

* * *

Kai was in the video editing suite, going over the same footage for maybe the fifth time, when he got a text from the office.

“Wonderful job, Kai!” it said. “This is probably the most unique produce merchandise we’ve seen in awhile! We’re putting it into production immediately! Oh, and we like Uruha’s, too.”

He put his phone back in his pocket and turned to Uruha, who was coming back into the suite with water bottles for both of them. “They love my belt,” he told Uruha. “They’re going right into production with it!”

“I told you they were going to love it,” Uruha said, handing the bottle to Kai. “Did they say anything about mine?”

“They liked yours, too,” Kai said. He was smiling ear to ear. “My first attempt at designing something like this, and it went over that well.”

“I knew you could do it,” Uruha said, throwing an arm around Kai. “I knew it was gorgeous from the time you showed it to me.”

Aoi looked over at them. “What’s that about?” Aoi said.

“My belt design,” Kai said. “It’s a success!”

“We’ll see if it outsells my body stickers at the live itself,” Aoi said.

Kai didn’t care, even if Aoi was parading his ego around. He was happy. What could possibly go wrong from here?

* * *

Kazuki came back into the apartment after his meeting. He felt a lot more rejuvenated than he had this morning – especially since he was a lot more sure now of SCREW’s future. They might have lost Rui, they might be continuing on as s four-piece, but they were going to be fine.

He’d even had time to drop off Kai and Uruha’s produce goods before the meeting – which he also felt good about. Hey, do a couple of friends a favor, especially after Kai had given him the sauce and the recipe . . .

It was then that he realized he’d left the sauce on the floor. Well, crap. He walked over and picked the bag up – he’d put the recipe in a drawer in the kitchen and the sauce on a shelf, at least until it was opened.

He crossed into the kitchen, reached into the bag, and pulled out . . . a box. When he opened that, there was a belt. A lovely, chain-link belt. He just stared at it for a long moment. “Oh, shit,” he said. If this was here, what did he give them?

Kazuki pulled out his phone, dialed the office and asked for promotions. “Look, about that bag I brought in this morning from Kai . . .”

“Oh, isn’t it fantastic?” said the woman on the other end. “Everyone here just thinks it’s brilliant. We sent the recipe out to a factory right away. There’s going to be enough jars for everyone who attends the live! And the president of the company was really impressed as well.”

“She was?” said Kazuki.

“Yes, she was,” said the voice on the other end. “and she’s going to make sure everyone knows about this. So you can tell Kai it was a HUGE hit!”

“I’ll . . . I’ll tell him,” Kazuki said, slowly.

He hung up the phone. Okay, so he’d committed a blunder. A pretty big one. Well, he’d been in a huge hurry this morning, right? It was kind of natural that he’d grab the wrong thing.

But . . . they LIKED it. The effort was in Kai’s favor. He’d turned in successful produce goods. Just . . .not the goods he’d counted on.

He decided he wasn’t going to tell Kai about this. He’d let him find out for himself. He was just going to try to pretend like none of this ever happened.

* * *

Kai came into the office a bit early, which was, of course, a leader’s privilege to do so. He was in a very good mood. Plans for the anniversary live were going swimmingly, and the merchandise was all in production – including the individual members’ produce goods. Today, he was going to approve the official announcement of the goods before the others arrived for the meeting.

“Good morning, Kai-san!” one of the secretaries called to him as he was on his way to the conference room GazettE usually used. “That was a fantastic idea you had!”

“Thank you!” he said, waving back to her. He’d gotten a lot of those commends over the last few days. It made him happy to know that his belt was such a smash. Maybe he’d try designing more things like that. Heck, maybe he could have an accessory line specifically made to counterbalance Ruki’s Black Moral line.

He’d gone over a couple of other things with the staff when a secretary in, carrying a pile of printouts. “Here you are, Kai-san,” she said, bowing to him. “The top one is for the fan club, the one after that will be released on the staff Twitter.”

“Thank you,” Kai said, bowing to her in return. He took the first one and scanned over it . . . yes, it looked good. There were all the listings of Ruki’s Black Moral stuff, and then the member produce goods . . . Uruha’s sandals, Aoi’s body sticker, Reita’s short sleeved shirt, Kai’s pasta sauce . . .

PASTA SAUCE????

Kai blinked. He wasn’t seeing this, was he? Oh, yes, he was. It said right there in front of him, in black and white, “Kai’s pasta sauce (Genovese).”

“What the . . .” he said. He leapt up from the table and sprang into the hall – nearly bowling over Ruki and Reita, who had arrived for the meeting.

“Hey!” Ruki said. “What the fuck was that about?”

Kai held up the paper. “This is a mistake!” he said. “It says I made pasta sauce!”

“Why’s that a fucking mistake?” said Ruki. “You do that all the time!”

Kai rushed down the hall like a bat out of hell toward promotions. He held the paper above his head as soon as he got into the room and said, “What is this?”

“It’s your release, Kai-san,” said the young man who was perched at a desk containing a rather old and needing to be upgraded computer. “It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“It’s got incorrect information on it!” Kai said. “My produce good is a belt. A chain-link belt!”

The man looked at his computer again. “But you did pasta sauce,” he said. “I saw it come in myself - a jar of sauce and the recipe. We sent it out to be produced right away.”

“They . . . they really are making the sauce?” Kai said. “What happened to the belt?”

“Kai-san, I never saw any belt,” the staffer said. “Believe me. All that was in the bag with your name on it was the sauce and the recipe.”

“Where did the bag come from?” Kai said.

“Kazuki-san. He brought it in, said you’d told him to bring it.”

Oh, crap. The dinner with Aoi and Kazuki popped into Kai’s mind. He’d given Kazuki the sauce and recipe in one bag, the belt in the other . . .

He suddenly turned around and rushed back to the meeting room. Aoi had to be there. He’d get to the bottom of this with him.

Sure enough, the rest of the band were sitting around the conference table when he burst back in. “Oh, there you are,” Aoi said. “We were beginning to wonder where you’d gotten to. Ruki said you ran out of there like a bunch of ex-boyfriends were chasing you.”

Kai held up the paper. “Aoi . . . what do you know about Kazuki bringing stuff into the office the other day?”

Aoi looked puzzled. “You mean the stuff you asked him to take in?”

“Yes!” said Kai. “What happened to it?”

“Dunno. All I know is he left before I did and when I woke up, Uruha’s box and one of your bags were gone. Why?”

“Because,” Kai said, holding up the paper, “it seems that my member produce good is now Genovese pasta sauce!”

His bandmates all slowly looked around at each other. Then, four heads slowly turned toward Kai.

“Pasta sauce?” said Ruki.

“Pasta sauce!” Kai replied.

“Pasta sauce?” said Reita. “REALLY pasta sauce?”

“It wasn’t my choice!” Kai said. “Or my idea! Kazuki brought them the wrong bag! I wanted to give the fans something cool and memorable and unique, and instead I’m giving them . . . dinner.”

And then, Aoi started to laugh. It was a small chuckle at first, and then it got louder, louder and louder still.

“Pasta sauce!” he said. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe it. Well, when people say they want to get sauced at our lives, they’re going to mean it!” He started to laugh again.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Uruha said.

Now four heads swiveled toward Uruha – and Kai’s was the first one. “Really?” Kai said.

“Really,” said Uruha. “You wanted to give them something memorable and unique, right?”

“This isn’t memorable like something beautiful from a live,” Kai said. “This is memorable like tripping over a rock and falling face-first into a puddle in front of your friends!”

“The point of member produce goods is to reflect the member, right?” Uruha said. “I wear sandals offstage all the time. Aoi has a tattoo, and the fans know about it. Reita always dresses casual. And you’re a great cook. Why is it a problem?”

“Uruha, I . . .” He looked embarrassed. “You know I’ve been trying to get rid of the Mama Kai image.”

It was something he liked to pretend didn’t bother him – even though it did. Big sections of the fandom refused to see him as anything but the band’s unofficial mother. They figured he did nothing but cook and scold the others when they were bad.

He had seen the fanarts online – even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to be looking at them. He knew that he didn’t get shipped with bandmates as much as the others, that the fangirls tended to draw Aoi with Uruha and Ruki with Reita – and that was on outgrowth of the “mama” thing, too.

It was ironic that something he deeply loved to do – cooking – could be such a part of his image problem.

“I don’t see this as coming from Mama Kai,” Uruha said. “I see it coming from a guy who can cook – which a lot more guys need to know how to do.”

“Uruha’s right,” Reita said. “This does reflect YOU. Cooking is something you do well.”

“Hell, you’ve made dinner for all of us,” Ruki said.

“And Kazuki liked it enough to want the recipe, remember?” said Aoi.

“Yes, which is how all this happened in the first place,” Kai sighed.

“And didn’t you tell me the staff was all raving about your produce goods?” Uruha said.

Kai looked down. “I thought it was the belt then,” he said.

“Belt, pasta sauce, what’s the difference?” Ruki said. “If they liked it, they liked it. And these guys have seen it all by this point.”

Kai looked down. He really wanted to share his belt with everyone. When he got all that praise, he thought it was for trying something new – not for doing the same thing that he did all the time. It was, to say the least, disappointing.

He thought he’d taken a bold new step into a new phase of his career. Instead, he was still . . . Mama Kai.

* * *

He got through the meeting, and then the others got up to leave. “I’ll be home in a few minutes,” he told Uruha.

“Are you all right?” Uruha said.

“Yes. I just need to take a walk for a moment and clear my head.”

Uruha hugged him. “Don’t be too worried about the sauce thing,” he said. “It’ll work out.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” he said, trying to get some enthusiasm in his voice.

When Uruha left, Kai headed toward a back exit. A couple of blocks away, there was a park where he liked to go when he needed to think. He’d go there, and put his hat and sunglasses on so he wouldn’t be recognized, and . . .

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said a voice right in front of him. Literally, RIGHT in front of him. Meaning he’d almost crashed into someone. Looking up revealed that someone was Kazuki.

“It’s all right,” Kai said. “I’m not thinking straight right now.”

“Why?” Kauzki said. “Something wrong?”

Oh, how ironic that he would be asking that. “Well, it seems I designed this nice belt, and . . .”

“Oh . . . that.” Kazuki rubbed the back of his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I was on my way out really fast, and I grabbed the wrong bag. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know it was pasta sauce in the bag?” Kai said.

“I was half asleep,” Kazuki said. “I wasn’t thinking at all. But I dropped it off at the office, and I only realized what I’d done when it was too late.”

Kai sighed. “There’s nothing that can be done about it now. The promotions staff loves the idea. So does the rest of the band.”

“But you don’t?” Kazuki said.

Kai smiled wanly. “Let’s just say I didn’t want an image as a cook.”

“Don’t know why you don’t,” Kazuki said. “It’s what you do best, other than being a leader and playing drums. Besides, when I really thought about it – I was kind of glad I made the mistake.”

Kai looked confused. “You did?”

“Well, this is going to help the fans see how talented you really are, right?” said Kazuki.

“I guess,” Kai sighed. “I just wish it was a talent that was . . . sexier.”

“You don’t think that cooking is a sexy talent?” Kazuki said.

“Well . . . “ Kai said. He thought of the fan cartoons he’d seen of himself in an apron, waving a spoon and scolding the others as they got up to mischief, or made out with each other.

“Why do you think I want to learn to cook?” Kazuki said.

“To not let Byou and Jin show you up?” Kai said.

“Okay, that’s part of it,” Kazuki said. “But part of it is also for Aoi. He said he loves the idea of me cooking for him because it’s really sexy to eat something your lover made with his own hands. So with this pasta sauce – well, you’re giving your fangirls the fantasy of having you cook for them.”

Kai paused. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. “Okay, you have a point there.”

“Besides, it’s something you really like doing, isn’t it?” Kazuki said. “So you’re sharing your love with everyone. I mean, I’ve seen you in the kitchen – and you’re happy. Really, really happy. You’d make anyone love to cook.”

Kai thought of all the times he’d gotten lost in what he was doing when he was in the kitchen. It really was like music – it was the act of creating, of trial and error, of that perfect moment of exhilaration when you finally got it right.

He really was sharing his other love with the audience, wasn’t it?

Kai suddenly gave Kazuki a spontaneous hug. “Thank you,” he said.

Kazuki looked baffled. “For what?” he said.

“For making me really see the value of what I do,” Kai said. “I have to write the recipe out for you again – and I owe you a double dose of the sauce.”

“Well . . . sure,” Kazuki said. “So you’re not mad at all?”

“No,” Kai said. “It’s the opposite.”

He rushed back toward the front door – there was no need to go walking now. In fact, he was going to stop in promotions and give them a much-needed apology.

He could truly feel good about his sauce now – and his status as the band’s cook.

* * *

Kai walked into the apartment, carrying a bag of groceries. Uruha was in the living room, guitar hooked up to his computer, headphones on his ears – which he took off when Kai came in.

“Hi,” he said. “Feeling better?”

“A lot,” Kai said. “I’m glad I’m doing the sauce now.”

“I figured we’d get takeout tonight,” Uruha said, “since you’re not feeling that great about cooking.”

“Who said that?” Kai said. “I feel wonderful about cooking.” He hefted the grocery bag. “See? I got the stuff to make dinner.”

“You really do feel better,” Uruha said. “The walk must have been a good one.”

“I didn’t need the walk,” Kai said. “Just a conversation with the right person.”

He went into the kitchen, humming happily, putting his grocery bag on the counter. He was where he belonged – in the kitchen, and in his happy zone. And who cared if some of the fans misinterpreted that? Others would understand.

And besides – maybe actually experiencing his cooking would get some of the other fans to see him in a new light. Heck, it may do as much for his image as the BDSM scene in Inside Beast did.  
In the long run, what did it matter whether fans shipped him? He knew damn well who he was shipped with in real life – even if none of them knew it.

Cooking for Uruha, to him, was the sexiest thing in the world.


End file.
